Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Happy Trails
I was a volunteer timer for a local trail run last weekend. I've helped at the finish line for several years, and always experience assorted emotions. I’m impressed, I’m inspired, and I’m even a little envious.
Some of the athletes’ accomplishments are amazing. Running 100 miles straight under any circumstances is an awesome feat, but how about running 100 miles through rough, rugged terrain, up and down hills that are really mountains? How about running those miles through the night with no sleep? How about finishing those treacherous, tortuous miles in a mere 20 ½ hours, as did this year’s 100 mile race winner? That is very impressive.
The race includes “shorter” courses, of 50 miles, 50 K, and 30 K. I help with the registration of this event, and I see runners who come back year after year. Some compete in the same distance, and aspire for a better time. Some jump up to the next higher distance and challenge their mental and physical abilities. And some come just to finish—like the forever young couple in their seventies who have walked the beautiful, but formidable, 30 K course together for several years. All of the participants are inspiring.
This same trail run was the first long distance race I ever attempted. I ran it with my daughter several years ago, and the experience we shared is a treasured memory. My daughter was the ultimate pacer, supporting me and encouraging me the entire way. It was a tough go: I fell twice during the race, and one of the spills landed me in the creek completely soaking me, and the other fall bruised my knees and my ego. Through it all, my daughter bolstered my spirits and my confidence, especially when I was nearly defeated during the last five interminable miles on a dusty gravel canyon road. It was an exhilarating triumph to cross the finish line together, and I appreciated it all the more because she had stayed with me, when she could have finished well ahead of our time easily. Three years later, both of us ran the race on our own, and she won the women’s division, while I improved my time (although again I fell twice!)
Because I’ve experienced some of what they’ve been through, watching the bedraggled and exhausted runners cross the finish line impresses and inspires me. And because I know somewhat of the elated accomplishment that they are feeling, I’m a little envious. It’s a grueling long run, but one well worth the effort.
Some of the athletes’ accomplishments are amazing. Running 100 miles straight under any circumstances is an awesome feat, but how about running 100 miles through rough, rugged terrain, up and down hills that are really mountains? How about running those miles through the night with no sleep? How about finishing those treacherous, tortuous miles in a mere 20 ½ hours, as did this year’s 100 mile race winner? That is very impressive.
The race includes “shorter” courses, of 50 miles, 50 K, and 30 K. I help with the registration of this event, and I see runners who come back year after year. Some compete in the same distance, and aspire for a better time. Some jump up to the next higher distance and challenge their mental and physical abilities. And some come just to finish—like the forever young couple in their seventies who have walked the beautiful, but formidable, 30 K course together for several years. All of the participants are inspiring.
This same trail run was the first long distance race I ever attempted. I ran it with my daughter several years ago, and the experience we shared is a treasured memory. My daughter was the ultimate pacer, supporting me and encouraging me the entire way. It was a tough go: I fell twice during the race, and one of the spills landed me in the creek completely soaking me, and the other fall bruised my knees and my ego. Through it all, my daughter bolstered my spirits and my confidence, especially when I was nearly defeated during the last five interminable miles on a dusty gravel canyon road. It was an exhilarating triumph to cross the finish line together, and I appreciated it all the more because she had stayed with me, when she could have finished well ahead of our time easily. Three years later, both of us ran the race on our own, and she won the women’s division, while I improved my time (although again I fell twice!)Because I’ve experienced some of what they’ve been through, watching the bedraggled and exhausted runners cross the finish line impresses and inspires me. And because I know somewhat of the elated accomplishment that they are feeling, I’m a little envious. It’s a grueling long run, but one well worth the effort.
Comments:
<< Home
I, like you, am impressed by the courage, strength, and determination of these athletes. Running a few miles is a long run for me. Running a 30K is out of the question. I'm sure each of the athletes that crossed the line was very impressed and appreciative of your dedication to supporting the event.
Why is it so foggy in June? Do you live in a cold, wet climate close to the coast? Are there "Hills that are really mountains" that close to the coast? Looks interesting.
That day was cloudy and drizzly. In addition, the elevation at that point was about 8,000 ft., so our heads were literally in the clouds...in a Rocky Mountain High.
Post a Comment
<< Home
